


Stupid Perfect Boyfriend

by felixsyeeyee



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Boyfriends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, Type you idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixsyeeyee/pseuds/felixsyeeyee
Summary: Type's had a hard week. And nothing like insecurities about his amazing boyfriend to top it all off.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 347





	Stupid Perfect Boyfriend

Type knew he was . . . a bit rough around the edges. He had a bit of a dirty mouth and a short temper, but he always thought that was part of his charm; even then Type acknowledges his shortcomings. Part of the credit would have to go to his excellent support system : Mae made sure to teach him to say “sorry” as a child, being that the only person more stubborn than him in the family was her. Techno had stuck by him through the years, even when he was at his worst for some God forsaken reason. And Tharn. If the past three years with Tharn had taught Type anything, it was some of his boyfriend’s endless patience.  
  
But as with anyone, the journey was rough. There were some times where Type seemed to have more bad days than good days, the nightmares put him in a bad mood, which caused Type to lash out, making those around him hurt, which made Type sleep worse, which caused more nightmares. But Tharn was always there, putting an end to this horrid cycle. Holding Type through the tears (which he would later deny, red-faced). Tharn got better and better at working him through his anxiety and panic. And Type would like to think he got better and better at being a boyfriend, not just at being Type. Or he at least though he did until - 

-

Type was coming off a bad week. The job search combined with an internship was making him busier than he thought, meaning he wasn’t seeing his boyfriend as much. His football game / i.e. excuse to go out drinking with Techno and Champ was cancelled as well, because Champ had gotten food poisoning and Techno had some sort of family emergency with Technic. Tharn had also taken more gigs at P’Jeed’s that Type was often too exhausted to go too. After a day of being told that “You’re not qualified for this position” or “We have found other candidates more suitable” he wasn’t quite in the mood to talk to anyone. Type just wanted to curl up and cuddle with his stupid, nice boyfriend and watch a Man United game and fall asleep.  
  
Not that he’d tell Tharn that. He’d get that stupid grin on his face and say “I love you, too” and kiss him-  
  
On second thought maybe he should tell Tharn that.  
  
But instead he was hanging out at the bar waiting for Tharn to pack up so they could head home. This was the one gig a week that Type had promised to go to, and it seemed to be the one gig every single one of Tharn’s groupies had shown up to. Tharn had reassured him enough times that “I’m a Gay Man, Type. You’re the only one for me.” that Type rarely got jealous.  
  
The reflection in his beer glass glared back at Type. He didn’t know why it was bothering him so much today.  
  
“So you’re Tharn’s famous boyfriend, right?” A voice asked, snapping Type out of his angry internal monologue.  
  
He snapped up to see a boy, maybe a year or two younger than Type, with a slim frame and glitter around his eyes. His smile was wide, showing off large white teeth. He seemed nice. He pissed Type off.  
  
“If anything, Tharn’s my boyfriend.” Type grumbled into his beer. He knew he was being rude, the kid didn’t seem like a threat. Type just couldn’t help himself sometimes.  
  
Glitter eyes blinked a few times. But the smile came back (how could someone have so many teeth) and he continued on, unphased.  
  
“I’m Kamon, it's nice to finally meet you, you guys are the talk of the town! Tharn is somewhat of a legend in the band community here -” Type couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, his boyfriend worked hard for that and was proud, shoot him. “and you’re somewhat of a mystery.”  
  
Type took pause at that. “A mystery?”  
  
Kamon laughed as if Type had told a hilarious joke. “Well yeah, I mean you’re never here. And when you do show up, you just sit in the corner and glare at everyone. Some people think it’s a mystery you’re dating at all. I mean Tharn is Tharn, handsome, tall, nice and you’re… you.” Kamon gestured vaguely to Type, who at this point openly gaped at him.  
  
It wasn’t as if Type hadn’t heard this all before, even his mom has said it to him at this point. But having this toothy, Cheshire cat looking child say it to him after the week he had, it somehow shook his foundation a little to the left. Type was suddenly too hot. He needed out of this conversation.  
  
“I’m going to take a piss.”

  


-

  


Tharn drove them back to the apartment in relative silence. This wasn’t new, Type had been too tired the past few weeks to hold any sort of intelligent conversation.  
  
But Kamon’s conversation was still fresh in his mind. Did people really think Type didn’t support Tharn. Or worse, did Tharn think he didn’t support him? He couldn’t have that, that was absurd. Type lov- Type lov- Type loved Tharn and and Tharn loved music and so Type loved Tharn’s music.  
  
“You were great tonight.” Type blurted out, breaking the silence of the car. Tharns hand on his knee jerked and he gave Type a look. Compliments from Type were few and far between and they weren’t usually earned from his usual setlist.  
  
“Uh . . . Thanks?” He gave Type a small smile in the rearview.  
  
Silence lapsed for a few minutes. This was awkward.  
  
“When’s your next set?” Type tried. Conversations with Tharn were usually way easier than this. Was it because Tharn put in the effort usually?  
  
Shit, was Type a garbage boyfriend?  
  
“Aw… my wifey liked the set so much she wants another?” Tharn teased, oblivious to Type’s inner turmoil. Type was suddenly tired, the day catching up to him.  
  
“As if, asshole.” Type sighed out, putting his own hand over the one on his knee. He didn’t know why it took him so long to notice his very apparent lacking as a boyfriend, but he was lucky he had time before Tharn noticed too.

  


-

  


It was Sunday, one of the few days a week Type didn’t have his internship or job interviews and while he would usually lounge around, soaking up the free time or dicking off with Techno, he had a newfound project at the forefront of his mind.  
  
Tharn was at band practice (for his gig on Tuesday, which Type may or may not have broken into his phone to find out) leaving Type alone to his devices.  
  
Not that Type missed him.  
  
Type didn’t know how to be a “good boyfriend”, as apparently his last attempt was far from the mark. So, he decided he needed a good role model and what was a better example than his own, perfect , thoughtful, handsome, caring -  
  
His own boyfriend.  
  
Tharn, despite his busy schedule, usually used Sundays to clean, do the laundry and shop while Type was either out or sleeping. But that didn’t mean that it couldn’t now be Type’s job. How was he any more or less busy than Tharn?  
  
Type made his way about the chores that day, he was still tired from the week. By late afternoon he had accomplished most of the tasks he had set out for himself, such as vacuuming and replacing their pet betta , Techno 2 (not Type's idea) water. He was exhausted, not having much sleep the night before for obvious reasons. Just one last task left, the laundry, which was the one he was dreading the most.  
  
That same tiredness was maybe the reason he missed seeing his uniform in the last load. The load which also had Tharns expensive-ass white Calvin Klein underwear and dress shirts. Type didn’t have much time to experience the horror of what he had done before Tharns “Honey I’m home” rings through the apartment. He feels like crying. Or punching a wall. Maybe both. Instead, he just keeps looking into the washing machine and that's where Tharn finds him.  
  
“Well what do we have here?” Tharn says, sliding up behind Type, wrapping his arms around the other man's smaller frame. Type does a mental countdown until he sees what Type has done. Three . . . Two. . . “Oh shit’”  
  
Type decides it's time for damage control. “Look Tharn I’m sorry I really just - wait why are you laughing?” Tharn had started to chuckle, his head bobbing against Type’s back.  
  
“You’re adorable, Type.” he laughed, confusing his boyfriend further.  
  
“The hell does that mean?” Type said, turning around in his lovers grasp. He glared.  
  
“It means I guess I’m wearing pink underwear until we find a dry cleaner we like.” Type’s heart sank. He didn’t get what was so funny about this. Type tried so hard all day just for his boyfriend to hire a dry cleaner? He buried his face in Tharns neck, idiot boyfriend once again oblivious to the war going on inside his head.  
“I hope they cut off circulation to your dick.” He said.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
“I hope it falls off.”

  


-

  


His next plan was dinner. Once they moved somewhere with a kitchen, they cooked for themselves a lot more, eating out less. Tharn always gave into cooking what Type ate, adding spices he wasn’t the biggest fan of and still choking it down with a smile. In fact, he always seemed to cook more, insisting on pampering his wifey, who would sit on the counter and give very insightful commentary such as “your hands look good wrapped around that whisk. Almost as good as when they’re around my-”  
  
(They ordered take out that night.)  
  
So on Monday, when Type got home from his internship, he decided to cook for Tharn. Tharn was always more of a fan of western food, his father’s influence. So he decided on lasagna, which was basically cheese, sauce and noodles thrown into an oven. It couldn’t be that hard.  
  
After throwing the decent-looking concoction into the small toaster oven they had, Type saw he had about 30 minutes before Tharn was back from his last music class. And he also saw they were out of beer, which while not exactly Italian, was both of their preferred drinks. He had just enough time to grab a six pack from the corner store and be back in time to surprise Tharn with a home cooked meal and beer. A little smile came upon Type’s face. Who was the better boyfriend now.

  


-

  


Type was swinging a plastic bag full of beer cans when he heard the problem more than saw it. The fire alarm was blaring its shrill beeping, causing Type to drop the cans as he sprinted up the stairs to be greeted with a coughing Tharn throwing the door open, smoke billowing out.  
  
“Type! Thank God. We gotta leave, I called the fire department.” He ran up to Type, worry in his eyes like he wasn’t the one just in a burning room. The younger man grabbed his boyfriend's hands and took them back down the stairs and to which the other residents also were.  
  
The glared at Tharn and Type. Type somehow felt even worse.  
  
Tharn, oblivious to the stares leaned over and whispered in Type’s ear. “I think the toaster oven is a bit old.” and then laughed that breathy laugh Type adored. He felt like he wanted to cry. Or punch something.  
  
He looked over at Tharn, who gave him the smile meant just for Type,. “Do you want to go to that Southern place you like?”  
  
Type hated Tharn and his stupid beautiful smile and his dumb pink shirt, but he hated himself just a little bit more for gripping his hand tighter and saying “Only if you’re paying.”  
  
He’d be a good boyfriend eventually. Just not right now.

  


-

  


Type's last plan started off with a rocky start. They had to stay at Tharn’s parents place, which was fine (just a little awkward to explain), but he forgot to set an alarm for his first interview, blowing his chances. He had to sprint back to his scorched apartment to grab some clothes for his next one and they stunk of burnt mozzarella, which crippled his chances. They took one look at his disheveled appearance and Kamon’s “and you’re… you” reflected in their face as they let him down. And then Techno called and said he couldn’t give him a ride to Tharn’s gig, passing him up for some dick appointment. Which while Type understands, it was rather inconvenient to his plans of surprising Tharn at P’Jeed’s.  
  
So he called a taxi and stumbled into the bar during the last song of the set, slacks wrinkled and a roasted tomato aroma with him. He slid into his usual booth and watched his stupid, perfect boyfriend end his set, wanting nothing more than to grab him and run back to their bed. And cuddle.  
  
The last notes finished playing and Type got up, anticipating the surprise on Tharn’s face, playing the scene in his head. “Type! You came!” Cue the smile-for-Type. “Well duh, I am the best boyfriend, ever.” and Tharn would kiss him and he’d never leave Type ever-  
  
The daydream shattered as a familiar toothy smile got to his Tharn before him. Tharn smiled back and in Type’s sleep deprived- laundry detergent- noodle addled mind it was the smile meant for Type.  
  
Tears came to his eyes and he choked back a sniffle. He didn’t really want to punch something this time, so he just turned and left and went back home. 

  


-

  


Type didnt know how much later it was when Tharn came back home. He didn’t even know if he wanted to see him, he’d mostly gotten over himself on the “Tharn is cheating on me” part, as he knew the younger was much too pure of heart to even think about that. He was more stuck on the “I’m the actual worst boyfriend ever part” which he didn’t know if he could get that part out to Tharn without throwing up.  
  
Hearing the door unlock, Type just burrowed himself further into the comforter as if he made himself really small the problem would go away. It didn’t. The bed sagged as Tharn sat on his side, moving his hand to pet Type’s coarse hair. Kamon’s hair probably isn’t coarse, Type thought.  
  
“P’Jeed told me you came today.” Tharn said softly, thumb brushing Type’s cheekbone. Type just grunted, not wanting to talk. “I didn’t see you.” Type left that part in silence, not knowing what to say.  
  
Tharn sighed. “Type, if you don’t talk to me I don’t know what’s wrong. You’ve been acting weird lately.”  
  
Of course Tharn noticed. Of course his perfect, stupid, magic boyfriend noticed which means he also noticed Types failures too. Type berated himself for ever being so stupid as to think any less of Tharn. Perfect, stupid Tharn who was too good for him. He wanted to show Tharn his heart so he could kiss the messy, mangled thing better and they could forget it all happened.  
  
“Fuck off” Type said instead, moving his head from his boyfriend’s hand.  
  
“Tyyyype.” Tharn moved closed still, this time burrowing his head in Types neck, breath on his ear. “Had a bad week?”  
  
Type just grunted at the understatement of the year.  
  
“Type you know you’ll find a job eventually, right?” Type was silent. “Typee.” Silence. “Look at me Type.” He grabbed Type’s chin gently, laying down next to them so they were nose to nose.  
  
Type looked at Tharn and his eyes started to water for the second time tonight. How could a face be so open, so loving and accepting to Type. Of all people?  
  
“Type. What’s wrong?” Tharn said and all the emotions Type was pushing down the last week exploded. He moved to burrow his face in Tharn’s chest, sobbing.  
Not knowing where it comes from he blurts out, “I’m" he hiccups "just so afraid you’ll reject me too.” Until now, Type hadn’t put his feelings into words. He was too afraid. Afraid Tharn was going to see what apparently everyone else sees and reject him too. Think Type is too needy and broken and self conscious.  
  
Tharn wraps his arms around Type, pulling him impossibly close. “Oh, Type.” He kisses the crown of Type’s head. “You know I love you. I love taking care of you. Love your passion. Love it when you say my name and when you smile your secret smile you don’t think I see.”  
  
Type has calmed down at this point. He moves to look at Tharn again.  
  
“Is that what these past three days have been about? Type. . . You don’t have to change yourself to be with me,” Type flashes back to Tharn on his knees promising to change. He suddenly feels like even more of an idiot, if possible. “I love you, who can’t wash clothes or cook to save his life. The one who is passionate about a career and who still manages to see me. That makes you, you.”  
  
Type’s foundation shifts back to center.  
  
They sit in silence a little longer, just holding each other.  
  
“I love you, Tharn” He whispers.  
  
“I love you too, Type.” 

  


And maybe Type could be fine with being enough for Tharn, he thinks. Who cares about being the perfect boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> haha thanks for actually reading this. i dont usually write fics ever but i just had to for tharntype. i can't wait for season two! until then it's just mewgulf the series. hope you like it grammar errors and all, i know my writing sucks. my eyes hurt reading so cant proofread any longer, im sorry. update ; its 4 am so i decided to proofread more. its not perfect still but i fixed any major changes.  
> update 8/7- fixed formatting


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